Stress
by Hypnauhtical
Summary: This is a Married!Dean fic that i wrote and originally posted on tumblr. Dean's wife is stressed after a long week at work. How will her husband help her? Please review if you liked it!


MD fic - Stress

You pull your car into the garage, turning it off and hitting the button to close the garage door simultaneously as you do every day when you return home from work. Instead of getting out, going inside, and starting dinner like you normally do, you look to the empty parking space next to yours and put your head in your hands against the cool leather of the steering wheel.

It had already been a long week without Dean, and to top it off, yesterday you had to inform a student that he was failing because he was not getting his homework done on time and his parents angrily called the school today. Now your boss wanted to see you first thing Monday morning, and he sounded upset.

As if the week could go any worse, when you stepped out of the car, you tripped over your own foot and went crashing to the ground. The fall sent your heart racing, as sudden scares like that usually do, and you stood up a bit shaky with a hand pressed to your forehead. The pain didn't register until you saw the blood on your hands, but as soon as it did you cried out and rushed to the bathroom, trying not to drip too much blood on the floor.

With a wet rag, you set to work gently blotting at the tender spot on your forehead. It seems like a while before the blood stops coming, and the white rag is now red with only spots of white. Finally, your wound can be seen without a river of blood and you can make out that it isn't too bad. A small gash stretches itself from your brow bone to your forehead, not quite reaching your hairline, and it seems like its not going to bleed anymore, so you don't bother with any bandaids.

Thinking a nice, relaxing bath is exactly what you need, you run the hottest water and begin filling up the oversized tub, adding a few splashes of bubble bath. You switch on the radio you keep in the bathroom and the sound of rock music floats to your ears, reminding you of Dean. You leave it on and light a few candles before slipping into the tub.

A few hours later (you can tell by the cold water, lack of bubbles, and burned up candles) you're awakened by Dean shaking you.

"You're home." You smile the warmest smile at him, and even though you can tell he's tired from the dark circles under his eyes, he smiles back and sighs in relief. "What's wrong?" You ask, confused, as you climb out of the tub and into the towel Dean holds out to you. He wraps it around your shoulders, and pulls you into a tight embrace for a moment, then allows you to lead him to the bedroom so you can get dressed. As you move around the room, he lays back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"When I got home, your car door was open, the keys were lying on the ground, and there were drips of blood leading into the bathroom. I thought…" He stops, but he doesn't have to continue. You know what he thought. Now that you're dressed, you climb onto the bed and take a spot next to him, grabbing his hand as you do.

"I'm okay." You assure him.

"What happened?" He asks, gently prodding at your tender forehead. You flinch a little and sit up, leaning over Dean.

"I just fell. That's all." You smile and he sits up, inspecting your wound a little closer, more gentle this time.

"You fell?" He asks, backing away. You nod. "You're okay?" You nod again. "There's nothing here? No demons?"

"Do you want to check the house?" You plant a kiss on his cheek, trying to contain your girlish giggles. He could be_so_ cute sometimes.

"I already did." He says, and you can't hold back any longer. Waves of giggles erupt from your body and you throw yourself back down on the bed in laughter while Dean looks on, amused and chuckling a bit himself.

"You're cute when you're worried." You say when you can finally form a sentence.

"You're cute all the time." He replies, and just like that, the mood changes. The giggles cease as Dean puts himself over you, lowering his lips to your forehead, gently kissing away the pain. He trails delicate flutters of kisses to your neck, lifting any stress that you felt. You fun your fingers through his soft hair, hoping to do the same for him.

Finally, his lips meet yours and every weight is lifted from your shoulders. His hands run along your sides, finally reaching your hips and trailing back up, shirt in tow. You break apart only for a second so that the clothing, yours and his as well now, can pass the no man's land between you. Your husband trails kisses up and down your body, covering every inch of your skin, before stopping once more at your neck, paying special attention to the spot just below your ear, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

You inhale sharply and you attempt to undo his jeans with shaky hands. You're jealous of him calm he is while you tremble beneath him. Like the gentleman he is, he waits for you to successfully unbutton his jeans before continuing with the night's activities. Dean doesn't break your gaze as he slides your pajama pants down and pulls them off, depositing them on the floor with the rest of the clothing. He doesn't break your gaze when he slides down his own pants, accompanied with his boxers. You hold his gaze as you pull off your cotton underwear, and when you smirk, daring him to look, he pounces with even more passion than before.

Together you sink into the sheets as waves of pleasure come over you, one after the other. You shiver as Dean's mouth ghosts over your neck, your collar bone, your shoulder, and your hands pull on his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your fingertips as you try to bring him closer and closer to you.

Deans pace gets faster and faster and chill bumps cover your skin. Your entire vocabulary is forgotten and the only word you remember is _'Dean,'_ so you repeat it over and over. He pulls away from your neck and you revel in his handsomeness. His head is tilted down slightly, mouth open, gasping for air. His eyes are pinched shut and a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead. As everything comes to an end, you throw your head back, mirroring his expression.

He slumps over you, not squishing you, but more in a protective way, and gently kisses the wound on your forehead again as your breathing and heart rates return to normal. You shiver as Dean rolls onto his back and pulls you to his side, lazily twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. You close your eyes and rest your head against his shoulder.

"I missed you." You tell him without opening your eyes.

"I know." He breathes out. You feel his eyes on you and his hand drops the strand of hair and rests on your shoulder. "I love you." He tells you. A smile spreads across your face, but you keep your eyes shut as you whisper back.

"I know." His chest bounces slightly as he chuckles and pulls you against him tighter.


End file.
